We salute you Mr. Wetsuit Warmer-upper. You don't mind that the water temp is cold enough to give any man an instant sex change. You have your own "little" internal heating device. Why spend your hard earned money on a drysuit when all you need is a gallon of coffee and a hand full of Golden Seal. This Bud's for you Mr. Wetsuit Warmer-upper!!!

__________________
...yesterday don't mean shit...tomorrow's the day you have to face... Exercising obsessive pelagiac assault

Mr. Latest Technology Expert
We salute you Mr. Latest Technology Expert. As others struggle and fall behind, you continue to excel because you have the latest gadgets. Regardless of cost and without regard to any benefit, you blindly purchase any item that your dive shop tells you is new on the market. You captivate us with your computer and render us speechless with your regulator. That’s right you are the only person in Hawaii with a 6.145mm weight compensating dry suit that has a depth changing camo pattern, shark protection, and electronic homing device. You, Mr. Latest Technology Expert, are one cool dude.

Here's to you Mr.Camo wetsuit wearer.For you are not afraid to be the most invisible of the invisible.As yo can sneak up on an AJ, and shoot him in the chest,then later that evening a bald headed man, with a handlebar moustache and leather vest.
"leather vest yeah"
You encourage us all to say "Screw you,I'll look however I want"
"However I want yeah"
And if you decide you want to be "Camo wetsuit male dancerman" one night while out on the town.Well, you suit is right there in the truck,ready for action.
"Ready for hot action camo wetsuit man, yeah"
So you keep diving incognito Mr.Metro sexual camo wetsuitman.For we all salute you,and your camo ballz of steel.

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If you freeze to death and go to hell, it must feel good somewhere along the way.

Here's to you, Mr. Dead Last in the Tournament guy. While others fill their steel hoops of death to the brim, you stand on the deck saying, "Hey guys, where did all those fish come from?" While you blindly swim past grouper, hog, and amberjack, your able competitors shoot! Knowing that their trip to the prize table will be much sooner than yours. So here's to you, Mr Sultan of the Cellar. You may only come away with a coozie and a snorkel keeper, but you're 'ecologically sensitive', and that's gotta count for something.

While others risk dehydration from being geared-up for ten minutes, you incessantly discuss the need for your pony bottle. You will NOT be cajoled into diving without it, in spite of the fact that you have a fully jacked LP120 on your back, and the dive is on a rock in 12 ft off Bayport.
“Fully jacked 120…..”
While others cry out, “Get your ass ready,” you wax poetically about the intricacies of the Scuba Dubba surgical tube system. You remind your misguided partners that you can drown in 12 ft of water as easily as 100 ft…
“Bunch of dumb-ass renegades they are……”
And if they don’t even bother to input the gas mix because it’s in 12 ft, then it’s their ass. You, Mr. Mandatory Pony Bottle Activist, will cross check your Pony mix with tables and computers, writing the MOD in large red letters. And if you lose your pony bottle…(I am stopping right there )

While others don bc's and regulators you slip quietly into the water wearing nothing but a bannana hammock. Like a crouching tiger you hold your pneumatic 140cm gun at the ready. You pose...invisible in the weed lines awaiting a moment where your sculpted perfection becomes one with the sea. When regular guys ask you how you do it. You just say, "Tanks, we don't need no stinkin' tanks"
"We don't need no stinkin' tanks..."
While others switch out gear and check computers, you sit as a buddha transfixed on the bow of the boat with your face to the sun and reenergize the beast within.
"The beast within..."
Nothing compares to you. You are one with the sea.
So here's to you Mr. Zen Freedive Master. Without you, we would never know just how good it could be.